Getting To Know You
by frogfarm
Summary: The last of the Valkyries is on a mission to seduce Bruce Banner. But the big guy isn't making it any easier. For that matter, neither is Bruce. Post-Ragnarok; Valkyrie POV.


_"I feel like I know you."_

The ship is big enough to comfortably hold thousands with elbow room to spare, ex-prisoners and refugees alike. Still, even a vessel this size can start to feel small when you've been cooped up for nearly a hemicycle. She's not been off-planet since she first came to Sakaar, and how long that's been is hard enough to figure without the time dilation. Now in a mere sunspin she's traveled back home and away again, leaving all those memories behind. Along with the cloud of dust floating in space that was Asgard.

The ship is also small enough, and Hulk sufficiently large, that he shouldn't be able to hide from her this well. Eventually she finds him tucked away in a corner of the galley, gnawing on a roast leg of bilgesnipe.

"Hey." She nods at the hunk of meat in his fist. "You know those are extinct now, right?"

A grunt is her only response. She shrugs and turns away, gazing out the window at the thickly clustered field of stars.

"You're a hard man to find." She picks up a pile of unpeeled vegetables from the counter and begins to juggle, switching to one hand as she unsheathes her blade. "A girl might start to think you were avoiding her."

That earns her a snort that's big and loud enough for a bilgesnipe. "Little girl don't know nothing."

"Oh?" Her steel flashes in the light as each piece lands back on the counter, perfectly diced. "I know in all the time you were on Sakaar, I didn't see that other guy once."

"Puny Banner!" He spits the words around a mouthful of meat, hauling himself to his feet with a grunt. Utensils swing and sway, his motion sending rattles of vibration through the assorted cookware.

"We don't have to talk about him," she says. But he stomps out of the kitchen, shaking the entire ship in his passing.

She grabs a promising bottle and follows, only to come up against an irate God of Thunder immediately upon passing through the doorway. His single bloodshot eye pins her to the spot, visible sparks of lightning deep within. She's ready to snap back when his face relaxes and she can see the obvious concern; not just for the integrity of their ship, but for his friend.

"He is mortal," Thor says. Exhaustion is etched onto his face, drips from his every word. "He has just spent a significant portion of his existence locked inside that creature. He can barely remember what happened."

She nods, pushing away the irritation. "I'm trying to help him, your Majesty."

"Are you?" Thor squints, then frowns as he scratches around the edge of his eyepatch. "Damn thing itches."

She returns his gaze with perfect aplomb. "So you're saying he lives his life constantly terrified of transforming into that creature? Unable to control what the Hulk might do, yet still taking all that responsibility upon himself?"

"Ah -" Her king's jaw falls open, sudden realization flooding his expression. "Oh, no."

She meets him with a single elevated eyebrow. "Oh, yes."

Thor shakes his head, and she frowns. "What?"

"What?" Thor seems to remember something. "Oh, I just - thought we had something. You and I. After getting past the kidnapping me and selling me into slavery, you know, with the - fellow warriors of Asgard, side by side in combat...so..."

His words trail off, dissolving into silence as she looks back at him. As one, they erupt in a chuckle.

"We did have something." She smiles, giving his bicep a friendly going-away squeeze. "We had a moment."

"That we did." He chuckles again, then turns serious. "Be gentle with him."

"Are these mortals not built for such sport?" She cocks her head, affecting puzzlement. "And what makes you think it's the other guy I'm interested in?"

He shrugs and offers only a mysterious smile. The spitting image of his father.

"I do not speak only of his body."

* * *

Following her every instinct as a hunter, she refrains from chasing after her quarry. A cycle goes by, and another, and she's near thinking she made a mistake when the thud and thunder at her door heralds his arrival.

"Where you go?" He looks so confused she has to fight the urge to laugh.

"Came back here. To my room." She holds up the bottle. "To have a drink."

He scratches the back of his neck, staring at the floor, and she can't help it this time.

"Get in here, you big Hulk." She pulls at his wrist and he trudges in, giving a poor pretense of reluctance. The door slides shut and she takes a swig that empties the bottle. "Lie down right there."

"Floor?" He looks back at her, confusion outweighed by suspicion. "What for?"

"So I can give you a neckrub, genius." She ignores the flicker of irritation that crosses his face. "You'd go right through that bed."

"Pah." He turns away from her, folding massive arms over an even more massive chest. "Little girl got tiny arms. Tinier than Thor."

"Tiny arms looked like he was winning." She allows herself a smirk at the memory. "If Grandmaster hadn't cheated."

His head whips around with a glare, and she's thinking she might have made an even bigger mistake when his face darkens and he turns away.

"Tiny arms got nurses." He sounds downright wistful. "Hulk got no more nurses."

"I may not have medical training." She cracks her knuckles, smiling as he looks back at her. "But everyone says I have magic fingers."

It still takes a few minutes of coaxing and prodding before he's stretched out on his stomach on the floor. She curls up beside him in the crook of one armpit, opting for modesty over straddling his bare back in a skirt.

"Can't feel nothing," he grunts.

Her fingers dig in, and he jerks, nearly throwing her off.

"Hey!"

"Sorry."

She delivers a punch to his shoulder. Then a few more, slowly moving across the expanse to the far side, settling into a double-fisted rhythm.

"Huh." It comes out _Huh-uh-uh_. From the sound of it, her blows are having no small effect.

Less than a quarter cycle later he's melting in her hands; head turned sideways, eyes closed, a river of drool running from his open mouth. She delves deep into tight crevices, over the hills and through the valleys, leaning with both arms and digging her feet into the floor for extra leverage.

"Nice..."

His voice seems different, and she glances up, seeing an enormous smile on that adorable ugly face. Then she realizes he's shrinking beneath her, skin growing pale as he lets out a quiet groan of relief that gradually rises in pitch. Her touch grows softer, barely brushing his skin, and in a handful of heartbeats the man Thor calls Bruce Banner lies shirtless beneath her; his breathing slow and steady, his lower body swallowed up by a gigantic pair of ragged shorts. She realizes she's holding her breath, holding herself up to avoid crushing him beneath her denser molecular structure.

He shifts underneath her, stretching his arms, murmuring under his breath. She's leaning in to hear better when his eyes fly open.

"Oh!" He rolls over, blinking in confusion. "Hey."

"Hey." She opts to play it cool, sitting back down beside him. "Nice to see you again."

"Did we -" He looks around the sparsely appointed room, then spies the stars outside the window. "Did we win? Where's Thor?"

"He's fine. Asgard - the planet - was destroyed."

"Oh." He thinks on that a moment, then gives up. "Is that a win?"

"The people are safe." Her smile feels clumsy as she lays one hand on his arm, his mortal body feeling infinitely fragile to her touch. "Close enough."

"Thank God." The haunted look in his eye seems to ease, the remaining tension in his shoulders draining away.

"Thank his Majesty," she responds automatically. Bruce looks up in surprise.

"Thor? So he -"

"Assumed the throne," she confirms. "With guaranteed half the royal intrigue, skullduggery and corruption. As long as his brother's still around, that is."

He absorbs this for a moment before looking down, taking in his state of disarray. "Whoops."

"Here -" She reaches up and grabs a blanket from the bed, draping it around him. When he looks up at her, the confusion has returned in full.

"So - do I know you?" He shakes his head. "I swear I..." Then his face falls. For a long moment he's silent, before shaking his head with a bitter chuckle.

"What's wrong?" Not like she couldn't guess.

"You know the other guy." He says it like he's diagnosed her with some fatal sex disease.

"More or less." She keeps her tone neutral, watching him carefully. "Probably spent more time with you than anyone else on Sakaar. From the day you arrived."

"Two years ago." He doesn't look quite as stunned anymore, but she can tell it's still sinking in.

She ventures the obvious, despite the potential pain. "And how long do your people live?"

His lip curls in a grimace. "Anywhere from...sixty to eighty years? Give or take?"

She shakes her head as the magnitude of it washes over her. But he's still talking.

"How did we meet?" His brow furrows. "Did you capture me too?"

She chuckles. "Doubt I could have."

He ducks his head. "You're just saying that."

"No," she continues, "you came out of the sky just like your friend. You just fought back better."

She can see him fighting a smile despite himself.

"Grandmaster's men came to pick you up and almost got the same treatment. Until they convinced you to fight in the games."

"I'd have loved to have sat in on that negotiation." Bruce looks around the room again. "And where are we, exactly? Do we know...where we are?"

"We're on our way to Earth." She ignores the itching in her fingers for another bottle. Nothing in the nine realms will give her the courage that she needs to take the next step. "I'm told you have many friends there."

He purses his lips, vaguely forlorn. "I guess."

She sends out a cautious probe. "Is there anyone truly in your heart?"

He looks over with a frown, trying to ascertain her motives.

"I had someone..." He pulls the blanket back up, having slipped off his shoulder. "I almost had someone. She told me -"

She remains silent.

"She basically told me exactly how she felt. All I had to do was have the courage to take that step. And then..." Another bitter chuckle. "I ran off to the far side of the universe. Like the coward I am."

"You're no coward." That much she's sure of. "I saw you hurl yourself into battle. I thought you were mad...I thought you'd be killed." She smiles. "Still think you're more than a bit mad."

"I'm starting to think sanity is relative." Bruce leans against the bed, throwing back his head and letting it sink into the mattress.

"When I was on Asgard, a very long time ago, I...loved. One of my fellow Valkyries."

That gets his attention. He stares at her, waiting for the other shoe.

"She was everything I wasn't. Gentle...kind. But she made me want to be different. To be better." She swallows at the memory of Loki, stoking the embers of memory into a raging fire. "When she was killed...I gave up trying."

"I'm sorry." His hand twitches before he pulls back into himself. He doesn't see her reaching behind her head, undoing the band and pulling it out, letting her hair tumble lush and loose about her shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly leans in.

He notices right before contact. A frightened squawk emerges from his throat as he jerks away. "Are you suicidal?"

Surprise gives way to determination. "Bloody horned is what I am! You know how many weeks - well no, you wouldn't."

"Oh, no." Bruce stands up, clutching his blanket, trying to keep it from falling away. "The last time I freaked out on a spaceship, we were still in breathable atmosphere. We are in the vacuum of space! Do you seriously want to risk -"

"I do." She rises to her full height, looking down at him with a fond gaze that only increases his agitation. He takes a step back and his leg hits the bed, then her finger pokes him square in the chest and he falls into a seated position. She slings one leg over and straddles his lap, pushing him flat on his back.

Bruce stares up at her like a trapped animal. "Are you drunk?"

She grins, holding up her finger and thumb, pinching them together. "Little bit."

"But -" His jaw works without words, and she can't help laughing.

"I was told you were a genius." She hovers over him, enjoying the feel of him trembling in her grasp. "You seem to have an awfully limited vocabulary."

"I can't! I just...can't, because - so obvious, I mean -"

"This other woman," she interrupts. "It's obvious you...care deeply for her."

He nods, clearly aware of her deliberate wording.

"But is she..." She makes a vague gesture. "Like you?"

He frowns. "You mean...human?"

"A warrior."

"Oh." A moment's hesitation. "Well, yeah, but...I mean, I've seen her do things some people might call superhuman, but...I think she just pushes the limits of what humans can do. She's just...mortal. Like me."

"And you were afraid for her, because you didn't trust yourself in the throes of passion."

Again Bruce looks more worried, not less. She smiles, striving for reassurance.

"But I am a woman of Asgard." Her manner now deliberately formal, even a little shy, her underlying eagerness still plain to see. "And you need not be afraid."

"Oh - oh geez." Bruce shakes his head, disappointment coloring his voice. "You're just using me to sleep with the Hulk? Oh geez, that's a whole new and disturbing - kind of -"

He stutters to a stop as she leans over him, gently grabbing him by both wrists, staring deep into his eyes.

"I don't know you." She plants a kiss dead center, right between his nipples. "But I want to."

"Oh God." His chest quivers and heaves as she kisses her way downward. "Oh, this is so guaranteed to freak me out. This is so not good..."

She lifts her head, unable to avoid sounding hurt. "What do you mean?"

"I don't mean what you're doing! I mean I do, but -" He groans and falls back down.

"All I am saying..." She sits up, fighting impatience as she strives to be kind. "Is that you need not fear for my safety. Should you transform, I will not be harmed." She allows a subtle but devilish smile. "I am sure I will enjoy it."

Bruce gapes up at her.

"And if you're worried about the ship, I'm sure I can keep you distracted. In fact," she chuckles, "I'll consider it an insult if I can't. But this other guy?"

On the verge of interruption, he shuts his mouth.

"I've spent the last however many cycles watching him beat every one of his challengers into a stain on the sand. And whenever I wasn't out drinking and whoring -"

Bruce's jaw flaps and slams shut.

"I was with him. Helping him train." She emphasizes her point. "Teaching him how things work."

"You mean on Sakaar."

"I'm just saying - I like the guy. But him? I know." She leans down again, nose to nose, staring into his soul. "You, Bruce Banner...are a mystery."

"Really?" He stares back, trying not to cross his eyes. "I'm...not all that mysterious."

"Tell me something." She allows her voice to soften. "About yourself."

"I..." He looks utterly helpless. "I don't usually dress like that."

She lets out an undignified giggle most unbecoming a Valkyrie. "You mean perpetually ripped shorts?"

"I mean pants that tight." Is he blushing? Oh, he is. "Or ironically retro band shirts, or sport jackets...I've never owned a sport jacket. Never been to a concert -"

"Well, I don't mean to insult your fashion sense." Her gaze travels down his torso, following the trail of fuzz leading under the blanket. "But I'm good with what you've got on right now."

"I thought..." Bruce fumbles, in a daze. Apparently his genius is unable to think of a way out of this. "You and Thor -"

"Oh, he's out of my league now. What with being king and all." She smiles, making it clear there are no hard feelings. "Sure, he's a sweet one. Even occasionally uses his brain. But royal politics are complicated enough without the last Valkyrie warming his Majesty's..." She clears her throat. "Sheets."

He joins her chuckle, the twinkle in her eyes enough evidence of her aim for something far earthier.

"Don't tell him, but..." She wrestles for a moment with honesty. "I like him too much to saddle him with that kind of burden."

"Oh." Bruce seems to remember where they are. At least he no longer appears panic-stricken.

"And like I said - _you're_ the one I want to know better. Ever since..." She ducks her head, looking at him through her lashes. "You called me beautiful."

He stares into her eyes, barely breathing. "And strong."

She nods, one hand cradling his face. His hand rises to cup her cheek in turn, his thumb tracing the white stripes of battle.

"I haven't been this sober in a very...very... _very_ long time." Her grin grows wider, like she's letting him in on a secret, even as her speech grows formal once more. "I am Brunnhilde. Warrior of Asgard, last of the Valkyries. My thoughts are clear. My body is ready for you, Bruce Banner of Midgard. And I can absolutely promise you a night you'll _never_ forget."

"Unless..." He swallows.

She laughs and shrugs. "Look, I really am good either way. But if that's all the motivation you need? Just promise me one thing."

Bruce appears balanced on the edge of a cliff, teetering back and forth. "What's that?"

Her lips brush his.

"Don't be afraid."


End file.
